


The Mediator

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV), The Iron Druid Chronicles - Kevin Hearne
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:16:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass and Connor are preparing to fight to the death, only to get a hand from an unexpected source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _I know! I know! I know! I'm switching gears **again**. I blame the plot bunnies! They won't stay on a single path!_
> 
> _I also may have to take them in to get them fixed. Damn things keep multiplying._

“Eat. You'll need your strength.”

Connor had been wearing that sulky expression for a while, now. Bass wished he could tell him everything was going to be all right, but he knew there was no use in lying. Gould wanted a dog fight and there was no way to get out of this cage. He had given his son every advantage and edge he could think of to make sure that his boy got out of this in one piece.

He gave the lion's share of the meat to Connor, taking only a few pieces for himself. Tearing off a piece, the shit was as tough as shoe leather, he chewed as he thought things through, going over the variables of the fight so he could go all out without actually harming his son.

Shouts and gunshots erupted from somewhere past the trailers were Gould's whores did their business. The guards watching them turned their eyes that way curiously, hands tightening on rifles. The sounds got denser and more excited in timbre just before there was the loud booming sound of an explosion soon followed by a jet of fire and smoke shooting up into the air. That was enough to make all but two of the guards break off to investigate.

He glanced at the lock on the gate. Two was better than six, but he had nothing on him to pick the lock with. Likely couldn't get it open before the guards left noticed if he did.

He was studying the guard most directly in front of him, taking the man's measure to judge how much of a threat he'd be in a fight, when there was a strange blur behind him. It looked like a heat haze, or the special effects from the old Predator movies. As he watched, the man's back bowed as though grabbed from behind and a cut like a sword wound appeared in his chest, a bloody ghost of a blade sliding back out.

Bass' body tensed, muscles coiling and ready to spring. 

The other guard gave an aborted move. He didn't have a clear target to shoot at. Monroe had to turn his head to watch the blur, it was moving towards the left of him, but he tried to look as though he was just attempting to figure out what was going on with the chaos in the tent city. The blur ran towards the guard, a bloody gash appeared in the man's arm, making him drop the rifle with a yell that was cut short by a cut across the throat.

Connor got to his feet at the same time Bass did, the tray of meat falling to be forgotten. “What the fuck?”

The blur shimmered and a young man with dark skin appeared in its place. He had a blood smeared sword in one hand and searched the guards with the other until he found the key to the padlock. Monroe palmed a shard of broken glass in his hand as he watched the stranger unlock the cage. 

“Come on. We need to move while they're distracted.” The man didn't wait to see if they followed, just took off in a direction that was away from the town. They could either go or stay. Staying meant having to fight to the death against his son or, quite possibly, being killed outright on the mistaken accusation that they had something to do with this. Maybe the guy would kill them, wanting to take out Sebastian Monroe himself. Maybe Bass had done him or his family a solid somewhere in his past and he was trying to repay the favor. Either way, free and alive for the moment was better than being in the cage so he and Connor grabbed the rifles of the now dead guards and followed.

They got from the clearing to the scrub brush, bending low as they moved to make a smaller profile. The trees in this region were sparse and somewhat spindly, but the further they moved the more cover they had. Bass waited until they were a good distance away stopped so they could catch their breath to speak. 

“So...thanks for busting us out of there. I didn't catch your name.”

The guy wasn't even breathing hard. He looked as though he'd been doing nothing more than taking a leisurely walk. 

He also wasn't wearing any shoes.

“I didn't give it.” He extended a hand, dark brown skin with blue tattoos that looked almost blank against his skin tone. “Gabe.”

Bass shook hands with him. “Not that I'm complaining, but why did you help us out?”

“We heard you were trying to get some men to help with these Patriot assholes. That so?”

“Yeah, that's so.”

Gabe nodded. “We got our beef with them, too. The Elders will want to talk to you.”

The 'Elders'. Sounded like a tribal setup. Still, that near-invisibility the kid had used was impressive. He could just get them to tell him how they did that, it would go a long way in helping. “All right. Lay on, MacDuff.”

The kid grinned. “You got that right. Most people get it wrong. Say 'lead on'.” He shrugged. “Still misused, though. We're traveling, not fighting.”

He could turn invisible, carried a sword and knew Shakespeare even though he couldn't have been much more than ten or eleven with the lights had gone out. This was both surreal and interesting. “Right. Only half credit, then. My English teacher would have kicked my ass. How far until we get there?”

“About half a day's trip, but we need to hold up until the other two get here.”

“The ones who set off the distraction?”

“The same.” 

“All right, then.” He held his liberated rifle at the ready and turned his eyes to the brush around them, keeping watch for any potential threats. Connor followed suit, each of them facing opposite directions so as to cover as much of the perimeter as possible.

It was another half hour or so before Bass caught that odd heat shimmer effect again, this time about twelve feet away and almost undetectable in the brush. Had he not seen it before and filed it away for possible future need, he would have missed it all together. Since he was fairly sure that none of Gould's guys knew that trick, he guessed these were Gabe's people. “Head's up.”

The shimmer paused, then melted away into the tall, lanky form of a young man with angular features and pale skin. He looked from Bass to Gabe with an air of caution. 

Gabe shrugged. “He saw me take out the guards. I had to sneak up on them.”

“Still, most people don't pick up on it that quickly.”

“Something tells me he's not 'most people'.” Gabe gave a short nod past the newcomer and into the brush. A second later a second blur of light turned into a curvy female with inky black hair cut into boyish bob and a wine colored birthmark covering a good portion of the left side of her face. “General, this is Jeff and Mary. They were kind enough to provide that lovely little explosion today.”

Bass nodded, making sure to keep his rifle pointed away from them. “Thanks for the rescue. I appreciate it.”

Jeff looked at him with clear distrust. Mary nodded. “Gould's an ass, making people fight their kin to the death like that. Not to mention the other stuff. We needed to have words with him anyway.”

“Words?”

Jeff cracked a smile that Bass suspected was rare. “Yeah, when Mary 'has words' with someone, it usually involves a blade of some kind.”

Mary sniffed, lifted her chin with an expression that would have done a pre-Blackout debutante proud and walked past them into the brush. “We should get moving. I'd like to get back to the village before the horde eats everything.” Bass felt an urge to grin. Some girls like Mary would have grown up with a huge chip on their shoulders, made bitter because people were shallow and, in spite of the fact that she had a great figure and her bone structure was just about perfect, would not be able to see past the birthmark. Boys her age would pass her up for other girls they thought were prettier and girls her age would either be pitying or snide. Something told him that Mary had the strength of character to weather such things and be all the stronger for it.

They moved at a steady, ground-eating pace. Bass took mental notes of their three rescuers as they did so. All young, early to mid-twenties. All moved with the smooth grace of trained fighters. Where the tattoos on Gabe's were made darker by the pigmentation of his skin, on the other two they were a nice shade of blue. Celtic knot work designs, starting on the back of the right hand and going up the arm, likely all the way to the shoulder under their clothes. 

Clothing looked to be made post-Blackout. There was a difference between the machine sewn garments from before and the clothes stitched by hand or with a treadle machine. The cloth looked to be undyed, mostly hues of cream to light tan, the colors found in natural fibers. All three were barefoot and seemingly unconcerned with the possibility of coming across a sharp rock, rusted metal or a shard of old glass. 

And they were well fed. Their skin, nails and hair were all indicative of being well nourished. These kids weren't from any war clan. Probably weren't exactly local, either. Whoever raised and trained them, they took excellent care of them. The kind of care that would have resulted in unquestioning loyalty. 

The sun had set but it was still twilight when they reached the 'camp'. It was actually a village of the Amerind variety. Not the buck skin tents usually pictured in movies but sturdy houses made of wood and adobe bricks. The locals looked the part, though, with wind kissed, red-brown skin and dark hair. There were others of a more mixed heritage, flashes of lighter hair and paler skin, but the majority of the people he could see were definitely natives.

Their guides slowed up as they reached the outskirts of the town. As they walked in a lean man who looked to be the archetype of the Old West Indian pushed away from a wall. “Aww...hell no!” He scowled and turned, stomping towards another house. “Hey! Mr. Druid! Get out here! Your kids done lost their damn minds!”

Connor kept his voice pitched low. “I don't think they're happy to see us.”

“Just watch my lead and be ready to fight our way out of here if we need to.”

A pale man with pale white skin, a head of flaming red hair and a goatee came out of the house, his expression one of polite curiosity. The Indian man gesticulated as he spoke to him, pointing over towards their party. The red-head blinked, rolled his eyes and came walking over. Bass noted the hilt of a sword. Normally that's all he would have noticed about it, but the hilt was an actual hilt in the style back in swords were the primary weapon of battle. Before firearms and Kevlar and when men wore full armor and competed in jousts.

The man came to a stop before them. “Guys, what have I said about bringing home strays?”

Jeff jerked a thumb to his left. “It was Gabe's idea.”

He looked from Jeff to Gabe and then over to the lone female in their party. “Weren't you supposed to keep these two out of trouble?”

“No. You sent us to kill Gould and rip apart his sex trade business. That implies that we have full authority to get into trouble.”

Connor just couldn't keep his mouth shut. “What do you have against prostitutes?”

The Indian man was standing next to the pale man, his mouth set in a sneer. “On account of that son of a bitch sent his goons to try and steal some of our girls to force them into it. Not the first time he did it, either.”

“Oh.” Bass held a hand up to silence his kid. 

“Look, I don't want any trouble. Gould had us in a cage and was going to force us to fight to the death. Your guys got us out. We're more than happy to move along.”

Gabe spoke up. “They were trying to get money together to hire mercs to go after the Patriots.”

That got their attention. “Really? Well, that might be worth listening to.” The red-head extended a hand. “Atticus O'Sullivan. This is Coyote. So, other than framing you for dropping the bombs, why are you interested in getting rid of the Patriots?”

Bass accepted the hand shake. “This is Connor Bennet.” The guy obviously knew who he was, Coyote clearly did as well or he wouldn't have responded with such displeasure, but neither of them needed to know Connor was his son just yet. “They played me and Foster against one another, killed who knows how many thousands just so they can get a foot hold onto the continent. Now they're making a play into Texas. Set a war clan on a town then swooped in to save it. Carver's given them the town as a show of friendship.”

Coyote snorted. “Ignorant ass white people.”

“Carver's Hispanic.”

“I don't give a fuck. He ain't one of The People.”

Bass really couldn't fault some amount of distrust. Not given what history told them about how the native people of the continent had been treated by the newcomers. Still, such hostility.

Atticus (his mother must have really To Kill a Mockingbird) looked in thought. “No...no we could use this.” He met Bass' gaze. “Any chance you know where the other one is?”

There was only on 'other one' he could be talking about. “I might have an idea.”

“You ain't seriously thinking about working with this two bit dictator. Hell, he's a deposed dictator! What use is he gonna be?”

“He's smart, knows how to fight dirty and is charismatic enough to get people to follow him even knowing what he's done.” Atticus gave a sideways tilt of his head. “Matheson does, too. And I'm betting he's got information on what's going on in Texas that could be useful. Gabe was right. He's useful.”

Coyote turned away, clearly disgusted. O'Sullivan looked at the kids. “Okay, you guys get fed and rested. Monroe, you and your friend here can crash with me. First thing tomorrow, Jeff, you head back home and let Hal know what's going down. He'll want to be in on this.”

Coyote laughed. “You expect the wolves to work with him? Shit. They spent the best part of the last decade fighting this asshole and his goons.”

Wolves? Hal? “Are you talking about Hal Hauk? Out of Georgia?”

Atticus nodded. “Most recently out of Georgia, now he and his are back at our home.”

“How much of his?”

“You probably knew them as First Platoon. He cut the rest of the company loose after the bombs dropped so they could search for their families.”

“Damn. They'd be better than any mercs available.” Deadly. Fierce. Damn near unstoppable from what he and Miles had been able to ascertain. “Still, he's got a point. Hauk's not my biggest fan.”

“You're right. So...I'm going to get you a mediator to keep you playing nice. Gabe, when Jeff heads home, you head up North and get her.”

Mary made a choking sound. “Haven't you been really careful about...her?”

Atticus sighed. “Yeah, but she's grown now. She can hold her own. Besides, I'm gonna guess that Miles Matheson will be more interested in seeing her again than starting up with Hal.”

Huh? “Seeing who again?”

O'Sullivan didn't look like he wanted to say, but communication was key to any relationship, be it romance or alliance. “His niece.”

Surprise was quickly followed by anger as a deep rooted need to protect his brother from someone's cruel idea of a joke. “Charlotte Matheson is dead.” His voice was a growl. “She drowned, not a year after the lights went out.”

Atticus shook his head. “No, she didn't, though it was damn near close. Although thank you for letting know someone else survived that flood. We were never able to confirm any relatives still living other than Miles, and I sure as hell wasn't turning a little girl over to the likes of you two.” 

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Charlotte was alive? Little Charlie? His memory called up a flaxen haired angel smiling up at him in spite of a pair of skinned up knees from turning her bicycle too quickly after he and Miles had taken her training wheels off. Always ready to go, she had insisted on getting right back on instead of letting them take her inside to see to the cuts. 

“Hey, Monroe? You might wanna try breathing. It's kind of essential.”

He blinked, silently cursing himself for how quickly and easily his eyes could tear up. “Where is she?”

“Not important. What is important is that she'll likely be here by this time tomorrow. For now, let's get you guys something to eat and a chance to clean up. I'm betting Gould didn't exactly offer five star accommodations.”


	2. Chapter 2

The village was rather calm and quiet. Still Bass knew that he wasn't welcome. It wasn't that anyone said anything outright to him, it was just in the way that people looked at them. Atticus and his kids didn't seem to mind being there, but he knew they didn't entirely trust him.

On the other hand, Atticus did seem to be willing to speak with him regarding his own reasons for wanting the Patriots gone.

"We already know that you weren't the one who dropped the bombs. I mean you were crazy, but you weren't that crazy. It's obvious why you wanted Georgia; you needed the real estate. The northern part of the United States was more developed than southern. It also had a shorter growing season and not nearly as much arable land. You, on the other hand, had a greater population to feed. If you'd secured Georgia you would've had plenty of land to grow food for not just the North but the South as well. Dropping a nuclear bomb on prime growing land didn't make any sense if what you needed was food production. And not even you were crazy enough to try to nuke your own city."

So not everyone was without a brain. Bass had begun to worry about that considering how quick people were to believe that he had bombed both Atlanta and Philadelphia. Atticus, at least, appeared to be able to think for himself.

"I'm glad to hear that. It was beginning to become disheartening. Everyone seemed eager to believe that I was that dumb."

Atticus rolled his eyes shaking his head a little. "It does get a little scary at times, how quickly people forget things I mean. These Patriots are saying that it was you and Foster and others like you that drove them out of the country. However, if you just stopped to think about a little bit, you'd remember that the American government pretty much turned tail and ran within a month of the lights going out. You and your boyfriend took a lot longer than that to get your Militia up and running."

Bass ignored the quip about Miles being his boyfriend. "I know why I want the fuckers dead, but what's your reason?"

A dark shadow came over Atticus's face. "When the lights went out everything fell into chaos. I'm sure you remember that. I always suspected that was why you and Miles started the Militia. The rumor is that both of you used to be Marines. Is that true?"

Best gave a nod. "That's the truth of it. We were both sergeants assigned to Paris Island for training."

Atticus gave his own nod. "So before the Blackout, you were soldiers sworn to protect the United States and its people. It makes sense, then, that the two of you would decide that you needed to do something to try to restore order and balance after seeing all the crap that was going on. I can get behind why you started the Militia, and I can understand how the stress you were under might've sent you over the edge, and I'm sure you also saw the ugliest things that happened."

Bass took a pull from the bottle of whiskey. He had seen things. Terrible things. He saw brutes and thugs preying on those who couldn't take care of themselves. That's how he and Miles found Jeremy. There'd been two guys beating the crap out of him. And that was after he and Miles come across a tent where a couple had been killed, the woman violated before her death. That was the day Miles had shot and killed a man, two men, without batting an eye. That was when Miles started thinking about the Militia.

"I know what you're talking about. We wondered how people could've fallen so far so quickly. Miles acted first and went I for the ride. I'm not sure when I became the one in charge, but we decided that together."

Atticus made a snort of laughter. "Well, considering what I'd heard of General Matheson, I suspect you were put in charge because he isn't nearly as congenial." He shared a grin with Bass at that. "Anyway, I suspect you remember the orphans."

"Yeah, there were too many of those."

"Far too many. We came across a lot of them. My wife and I, we just couldn't stand the sight of all those kids left on their own. As we found them we took them in. Most of them are orphans because their parents either died from violence or starvation, sometimes disease. A few of them were separated from their families by disaster and we weren't able to find the rest of their families. That's how we got Charlotte. When we found her she was half drowned, had cracked ribs, a broken arm and pneumonia was trying to set in. It was touch and go there for a while, but she managed to pull through."

It still seemed unreal to Bass that Charlotte was still alive. He had accepted the loss of the child a long time ago. He had been there for his brother when he mourned the loss of his niece. To think that he might soon see the girl again, although she would be far older and quite a bit different from what he remembered, felt like a dream. His memory called up scenes of a pretty flaxen haired girl, her hair pulled back in a bun, smiling at them from a computer screen in a tent in a desert far away. Sweet little Charlotte. Alive and well. It seemed too good to be true.

"Thank you. It affected us all, will be thought she was dead."

"I expect that it did. She was an exceptional child. She's grown up and to be an exceptional young woman. She was still wearing her backpack when we found her. The rains and the waters had ruined a lot of things, but there was this tiny photo album wrapped up inside her clothes. Between the plastic of the pages and the fabric of the clothing it managed to survive mostly intact. There were a few water spots but you could still make out faces. Those kids we found who had memories of their family or something to remember them by we tried our best to make sure that they remembered where they came from. She was no exception. We had her tell us the names of all the people of the photos and made sure that she repeated them to herself on a regular basis. We had already gone through the photos before she woke up and it done our best to look for any survivors. We never found anyone, so we assumed that it was likely they'd died in the storm."

"But you knew about me and Miles."

"Yes, we did, but even you have to understand that I couldn't possibly turn a young girl over to the likes of you and Miles. Your lives were violent. Granted, mine wasn't exactly peaceful, but I wasn't using a group of armed men to try to conquer most of the eastern United States."

It was on the tip of Bass's tongue to refute that statement, but if he were to be truthful with himself, he did understand it. Instead he just gave a slow nod and took another drink of the whiskey.

Atticus reach for the bottle of whiskey and took a drink of his own once Bass handed it to him. "To be fair, I did give her a choice. When she turned twelve, I did let her know exactly what you and her uncle had been up to. It was her choice to stay with us, and I was more than happy to let her stay."

"Did you give her an unbiased report?"

"I brought her to one of your camps. Miles was working that day. We watch from the tree line while he ordered a bunch of men in front of his firing squad. She didn't care for that very much." He took another sip of the whiskey and handed the bottle back to Bass. "For what it's worth, I suspect that she'll be fair. Charlotte's smart. Scary smart. It took us by surprise at first. She was, what, six when she was lost? Six years old and she already had a basic grasp of algebra. That's when we knew she was more advanced than she should've been."

Bass rolled his eyes. "You have to know her parents. Her mother is smarter than anyone she comes across in her father wasn't stupid. It's not surprising that their daughter would be intelligent. If the lights hadn't gone out, she'd probably be at MIT or somewhere like that, shattering all the academic records."

"That sounds about right. It was rather daunting, thinking of how we were going to try to keep up with her."

"Okay, I'll believe that Charlotte was scary smart, but how does that dovetail into you wanting the Patriots gone?"

"Because we took a lot of kids. I love my kids. My wife and I only have the one that's actually ours by blood, but I love each and every one of those idiots. These Patriot guys, they set up these concentration camps. No, that's not the right word for it, more like reeducation centers. And I'm not talking about the ones you used to use. What you set up look like summer camp compared to these. They're using a combination of psychological torment and drugs to break these kids down and rebuild them in their image. By the time they're done with them, the poor things are barely human."

"So you want them dead because you care about children?"

"I do care about children. More importantly, the fuckers grabbed some of my kids. They were in the woods for a few nights stay the study flora and fauna as part of their education. When they didn't come back we knew something was wrong. It took us a day or two to track him down but we found them. It's lucky that we found them as quickly as we did. Our kids hadn't been destroyed yet. I can't say the same for the rest of the kids they had before them. They were barely more than animals."

Bass exchanged a look with Connor, both of their brows furrowed. "How do you mean?"

"By the time these guys are done with them, they stop being kids. They turn them into something like living automatons. They're just machines, at least they are when they're activated. They go intact to a number on the inside of the eyelid. A commanding officer handler reads off that number and the kid automatically turns into a zombie. When there like that they'll kill anybody or anything. The only positive thing I can say about it is a have the program so that they don't remember doing it when they come back out of it. At least they don't have to live with the memories of what they've done, but they're still too dangerous to leave alive."

Bass wasn't sure what to make of that. It sounded like something out of a really bad science-fiction movie, like one of those that the Syfy channel used to run. "That's a little hard to swallow."

"I agree with you if I hadn't seen it for myself. It's something right out of nightmares." Atticus shook his head and set aside his now empty bowl. "I don't like the fact they killed all those people with the bombs either. I don't like the fact that the use nukes at all. That's more of a personal reason for me, almost a religious one. Same goes for my kids, but either way these guys just need killing.”

Connor had been quiet while they spoke, taking advantage of their distraction to finish off one bowl of stew and help himself to a second. They hadn't gotten much in the way of the food while in captivity and the young man was hungry. Now he took a swig of the whiskey bottle, his eyes pinned on Atticus. "You seem awfully young to be raising a bunch of orphans. When you've been something like... Five or six when the lights went out?”

Atticus smirked and took the bottle for a drink of his own. "I'm remarkably well preserved." He gathered up the empty bowls and rose from his seat by the hearth. "I'm going to see where I can pitch in with village. You guys get some rest. It looks like you need."

He left the bottle of whiskey with them, a little less than a halfway full, and slipped out through the door of the Hogan. Bass exchanged a look with the son. "I was trying not to mention that part."

"He looks younger than me. Were supposed to believe he's in raising this Charlie girl all his time?" Connor shook his head in disbelief. "Who is she anyway? I mean I know that she is Miles's niece, but you looked about ready to kill him when he mentioned her."

Bass ran a hand through his curls. "She meant a lot to us. To both of us." He shook his head, and old pain lancing through him. "Before my last tour in Iraq I lost my family. My parents and both my little sisters. Some asshole got drunk and behind the wheel of a car. He crossed the center line and ran into him head on. Miles found me at the gravesite with the bottle of whiskey in a pistol. He kept me from eating my gun that night, but when we went back overseas I was reckless. I put myself in harms way on purpose hoping that someone would get a lucky shot and it me."

He took a pull from the whiskey as you remember those days. "They set up these rooms where you can speak to your loved ones and family back home via computer. Since my family was gone and the only family had left was Miles, there was no one for me to talk to. Then one day the sergeant comes over and tells me I've got a call. I didn't know what he was talking about but I went ahead and went in to see what was up. I sit down in front of the computer and there's little Charlotte Matheson staring back at me with a grin on her face. She was still dressed in her leotard from ballet class, her hair up in this little bun. She wanted to know if I was okay and if Miles was taking care of me. If I was taking care of Miles. Asked if there was anything that I needed that they could send to me and made me promise to be careful. She really cared about me, Connor, and she wanted me to come back just like she wanted Miles to come back. The little girl save my life. It became important to me to live just so I would make her cry by coming home in a box."

He could feel Connor's eyes on the side of his face. It was like a warm burning sensation, and he didn't have the strength to meet his gaze. When Rachel and told them that Charlie had been lost, he and Miles waited until they were long before the got blackout drunk, reminiscing about the few times they'd seen Charlotte before the lights went out.

Connor poked at the cold still burning in the hearth. "Now I'm looking forward to meeting her. Sounds like she was a little spitfire."

Bass grinned. "She was that. Stupid kid never met a tree she didn't want to climb or a bully she didn't want to fight. And that was when she was just a toddler. I'm curious to see how she's turned out."

~***~

The next morning showed up with a slight bite to the air. Breakfast was goat's milk and a dense bread with dates and pinion nuts baked in. They tore the bread into bite-size chunks import the milk over the top to soften it. It was a simple breakfast but a filling one and the dates lent a sweetness to the bread that was welcomed.

Connor was content to go back to sleep but Bass found himself restless. He emerged from the hogan to find the village bustling along. The villagers went about their daily tasks with practice skill and ease. Some acted as shepherds to herds of goats and sheep. Some women ground corn into flour while others were busy baking flatbread on heated sheets of metal. Others were busy carting and cleaning wool and spinning it into yarn that would later be made into blankets and cloth. He spied a gathering of young children, their dark heads huddled against one another, and Mary's dark curls above them. The children seemed very interested in what she had to say.

"What's up over there?" he asked as he saw Atticus come up beside him.

"Botany lesson. Mary's teach in the different parts of the date palm."

"You teach them botany?"

Atticus nodded. "It's not a bad thing to know. If you understand more about the plants you're raising and tending, you might do a better job."

He mulled this over for a moment. "You have a point there. I suppose I've gotten so used to the idea that people let education fall to the wayside that it's surprising to find someone still giving a damn about it."

The redhead chuckled. "I place a high value on education. I make sure all my kids have good grounding in it. Granted, some take to the lessons more than others. And some are better in certain fields and they are other fields. Take Mary, for example. She's a whiz at botany or biology. Pretty good at geology, too. But chemistry kicks her teeth in."

"How do you teach chemistry without a chemistry lab?"

"Who says I don't have a chemistry lab?" Atticus grinned at him, and it was a grin filled with mischief and mayhem. "Did you find your breakfast?"

"I did. Thank you."

"Wasn't sure you'd get up before your friend ate it all."

Now it was his turn to grin. "Young men. Nothing more than appetites with legs."

Atticus barked a laugh. "That is a certainty. Trying to feed the small horde I've got is a challenge. Thankfully I've got that are willing to help."

"Help is always welcome. Speaking of, I feel something like a moocher. Is there something I can be doing to have pitching around here?"

"I'm sure we could find something. And our host are going to turn down free labor."

He spent a good portion of the rest of the morning helping with menial tasks. There was firewood to be gathered, fresh game to be strung up and cleaned and water to be hauled to the fires in the kettles. Considering that he knew he wasn't exactly welcomed here, pitching into the daily tasks when a long way to earning him a little goodwill. Atticus may have estimated that Charlotte would be there by the evening, but that was no guarantee. And there was no telling how many days he and Connor would have to stay in the village before they could leave.

They stopped for lunch which was a simple meal of roasted chicken and flatbread. By then the sun had risen high in the sky and the heat had come up so much that it was uncomfortable to be out working. The villagers are taken to having a sort of siesta during this time of the summer days and Bass felt comfortable in joining in. Sometime during the morning Connor in gotten up and followed his example by helping out. Somehow a son managed to keep most of his helping out sequestered to lending a hand to the pretty young girls who were working up the date harvest. There was quite a lot of giggling involved.

They were just about to get up from their nap when the sound of a human voice trying to mimic the howl of a wolf drifted to the village. Normally this would not of given Bass pause, but the human howl was quickly followed by the howl of an actual wolf. He felt his muscles tense, his hand reaching for a sword that wasn't there. Near the door Atticus's head raised from his blanket, a slight frown marring his forehead.

"That sounded like a wolf to me."

Atticus gave a single nod. "It was." He got up from his pallet. "What has that girl gone and done now? 

He got up and exited the hogan, Bass right behind him. Walking up the slight hill towards them was Gabe, his smile brightened white against the dark tone of his skin. Next to him walked a slender girl with sun-kissed blonde hair and a confident stride. She had what looked like a heavy coat draped over one arm and there was a large wolf padding along the side her.

Atticus chuckled next to them and shook his head. "These kids are never going to learn to stop bringing home pets." He started walking towards the two young people with his arms outstretched. The blonde walked right into his embrace and hugged him back as the wolf sniffed at him curiously.

Bass heard Connor come up behind him. "Is that her?"

"I can't be sure, but that's Gabe and Charlie was a blonde. She looks about the right age."

"I didn't know wolves could get that big. The ones in Mexico were smaller."

"They get bigger the further north you go. It's been a while since I was at a zoo, but the size of that one is along the lines of something out of Canada or Alaska."

Bass and Connor walked up to where Atticus and the girl were hugging. The wolf watch them warily, it's posture not exactly threatening, but not exactly welcoming either. Upon their approach, the two humans broke apart.

"Charlie, this is Sebastian Monroe and Connor Bennett. I believe Gabe probably filled you in on the way down here."

Bass studied the young woman before him. She was beautiful, but that was to be expected giving the gene pool she came from. Her hair fell in a messy tangle of waves down to her waist and her eyes were a clear blue gray that seemed to miss nothing. She wore the same type of post blackout clothing Gabe and Mary wore and the heavy coat over her arm proved to be a parka. Where around here would she need a parka? Bass noticed that she had the same elaborate tattoos on her right hand and forearm as well.

"He did. Hello, Fishy.”

A laugh escaped him, and it was followed by a flood of relief. It'd been far too long since he'd heard her call him that. "Hello Princess Charlotte."

Blue-gray eyes narrowed in a mock scowl. "I'm big enough to punch you for that now."

"You punched me for it before. Granted, you'll probably do more damage now."

The young woman grinned. "Are you going to stand there gawking at me all day or are you going to give me a hug?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Let me see if I have this straight; I am supposed to go with these two and keep Miles from picking a fight with Hal."

Atticus nodded, leaning back onto his elbows with his ankles crossed in a negligent pose. "That's the idea."

Charlotte leaned over towards Connor and tapped her for head. "Did someone tattoo idiot right there?"

Connor bit off a snort of laughter, covering it up with a swig from the bottle. Bass rolled his eyes. "Miles isn't that hard to get along with."

"Maybe not, but Hal doesn't care too much for him. And, forgive me for saying so, but my uncle isn't exactly known for his congeniality."

Bass gave a nod. "I'll give you that one. He and Hal did not have the best working relationship, but Atticus here says that he and his Wolfpack have their own reasons for wanting the Patriots gone."

"They do. Three of the first platoon were still in Atlanta when those bombs dropped. They want blood. But I remember how much Hal despised you guys. Miles may be willing to play nice, but you expect me to keep him playing nice as well?"

"Come on, Charlie. Hal adores you. Most of his guys do. If anyone can keep him playing nice it's you." Atticus gave her a grin that said he had no doubt in her ability.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I wasn't aware I'm a miracle worker."

"Of course you are! I've seen it with my own eyes."

The young woman sighed and shook her head. "You are so going to owe me for this." She snatched the bottle from Connor's hand and took a swig. "I want a new sword for this. A really good one. One of the Craftsmen's blades."

Atticus nodded. "Fair enough. They don't particularly like to deal with swords, they are too common, but I think they'll make an exception for you. You'll do it then?"

"I'll do it. I think you're crazy, but I'll do it." She caught Bass's grin out of the corner of her eye. "What are you so happy about?"

"I'm just thinking how happy your uncle will be when he sees you. It really broke his heart to think you were dead, Charlie."

She winced. "Yeah, this is going to be something of a shock to him."

That was putting it mildly. "And you should know that your mom is still alive. She and Miles are in Texas with her grandfather."

That made her sit up a little straighter. "Mom made it through that storm?"

This was a delicate part. Once he got her back to Texas into Miles and her mother the rest of it was bound to come up. It was better that he come clean now rather than a letter find out later. "Everyone thought it was you who died in that storm, Charlie. Rachel, then and Danny all made it out alive."

A frown marred her forehead. "But you only mentioned Mom being with Miles. What about Dad and Danny?"

Bass ran a hand through his curls. "There's no easy way to say this. Ben and Danny are both gone, and it's my fault." He took a deep breath. This was a lot like opening an old wound, and it was going to be even worse since he was going to have to say it out loud to this girl. "Your parents had something to do with the Blackout. I don't believe they actually meant for it to happen, but they did create the technology that brought it on. They were working for the Department of Defense and what they made was deployed."

He took a pull from the whiskey bottle as he pondered those words. "A lot of new things of come to light over the past year. I wasn't there when the bombs were dropped, but the Patriots were able to do it because Rachel managed to get the lights back on, even if it was only for those four minutes. They had a man inside Philadelphia. A guy name Randal Flynn. He showed up after Rachel had built an amplifier for appended that allowed you to access electricity. He offered me more pendants, more amplifiers and more scientists, and I was an idiot who forgot the old rule about things being too good to be true. Miles told me that he was the one to push the button. He'd been waiting for Rachel to get the lights back on so we could. Knowing what I know now, I doubt the worldwide blackout was what your parents had in mind. It's more likely that they merely created the technology and someone else misused it."

Atticus in leaned back on the one elbow, his feet crossed at the ankles as he listened. "History is filled with instances like that. Great minds make things and warmongers use them."

Bass nodded in agreement. "I was guilty of the same thing. I kept Rachel Matheson prisoner for years wanting her to turn the lights back on just for me. Had grand designs of conquering the entire continent and united under the Monroe Republic. She held out for a long time, but in the end I had Danny and she was willing to give me the amplifier for his sake." Damn but it hurt to remember how jaded he become. "Anyway, Miles and I had a standing order to bring Ben in a live. My men eventually found him, but they screwed up. They managed to get your dad killed instead, and they took Danny as prisoner in his place."

"How did my brother die?"

"According to the report I was given, he was standing with the rebels after I got the power on and had helicopters in the air. For whatever reason your mother let him join the fight. They got their hands on a rocket launcher and Danny was the one who fired it. According to the report I was given, he was gunned down by one of the soldiers on the helicopter as they were crashing." And he never should've been there. Danny Matheson was not a soldier. He would've never been accepted into the Army given his health, but he's been brave enough to try.

Charlotte seem to be considering all of this new information. She stared into the members of the hearth, watching the shifting light. "He died on his feet then. Mom was always a little overprotective of him. I remember that about her."

"You don't remember what she went through to have him. The technology she and your dad made, she didn't want to sell it to them. But she was expecting Danny and there were some dangerous complications in the pregnancy. It was a trade. She agreed to sell the Department of Defense the technology and they got of the medical care she needed to save your brother's life. She would've done anything for you kids. She did do everything for you kids. When Miles caught up with your parents, Rachel turned her self in rather than let Ben go. It made sense. Even though Rachel was the stronger of the two, a man with a child wasn't as tempting a target as a single mother would've been. It's sexist but there you go."

Any lighthearted teasing that it been accompanying the conversation was now gone. Charlie reached over with one hand to scratch between the wolf's ears almost absentmindedly.

"What's with the wolf anyway?"

Blue-grey eyes shifted from the fires to meet his. "This is Gary. He took a liking to me."

Bass arched brow. "His name is Gary?"

"Garou would've been too obvious." Bass got the distinct impression that the wolf was chuckling at him. "Most wolf packs are made up of an alpha couple which is actually a mated pair. The rest of the wolves are usually their offspring, but eventually those children have to grow up and leave the pack. It was Gary's time to strike out on his own, but he decided to hang with me." As if on cue the wolf lifted his muzzle and gave an affectionate lick to the side of her cheek. She grinned in response.

"So you have a pet wolf."

She gave a single shoulder shrug. "Not really a pet. More like a companion or a good friend."

Bass shook his head. "I have heard of weirder things. I mean, your mother created nano tech that is smaller than a virus, numbers in the quadrillion's, we're estimating, and manages to keep man-made power sources smothered. Compared to her, you're insanely normal."

Charlie, Atticus and the rest of their group all cut off snorts of laughter. "Right. I'm normal." She shook her head, still grinning. "Let's get some sleep. We'll head out first light."

~***~

They still had the rifles they'd taken off the guards back at Gould's place. Atticus it even managed to find some extra ammunition, though Bass had no idea where. He also managed to find him a couple of swords. They broke their fast on another meal of date bread and goats milk and given some rations of preserved meat and a sort of trail mix for their packs.

"I know you can handle yourself, Charlie, but I still think you should take at least one more person with you. Paranoia is a survival tactic, not a mental illness."

Charlie gave an exaggerated role of her eyes at Atticus. "Fine, if you insist, I'll take one more person."

"Oh! Me, me, me! Please pick me!"

Bass looked over to where Mary was bouncing up and down on her toes while waving one hand up in the air. Considering she already had a full pack sitting on the ground next to her, this was clearly all for show. Nevertheless, Charlie gave a dramatic sigh and threw her arms up in the air. "Fine! I pick Mary."

Gabe looked at Charlie, looked at Mary and then clapped to hand on Connor's shoulder. "It's been nice knowing you." He patted his shoulder a couple of more times and then walked away.

For his part, Connor look thrilled to be having two nubile young women accompanying them. Bass shouldered his pack and walked close enough to his son that he could pitch his voice low and still be heard. "Keep it in your pants."

"What if they don't want me to?"

"Keep your pants fastened anyway."

The girls shouldered their packs as well and all four people, and one wolf, started moving south.

~***~

Miles didn't trust Tom Neville any further than he could throw him. The man was an opportunist who could switch sides of the drop of a hat. He didn't trust his son much more, but at least Jason Neville had a conscience. And, he knew Tom. If the Patriots had touched a hair on Julia's head, Tom Neville was going to want payback. The man was obsessed with his wife to the point that he would even throw his own son to the wolves.

"Do you really think Monroe will come back with those men?"

There was a good question. "Honestly, I don't know. I give it fifty-fifty odds. If he had his druthers, I think he'd rather round up an army and get his republic back. That kid of his isn't good for him. He was the heir apparent to some drug cartel down in Mexico and is probably more power-hungry than Bass ever was."

Neville frowned. "And why did you send him for the guys?"

"Because if I left him here and went myself, I come back to either his grave or Rachel's. Those two want each other dead too much." He gave one of his signature lopsided shrugs. "This was the lesser of two bad choices."

"I see." Tom resumed his perusal of the incoming road. It was an old path, more like a dirt trail with almost no patrols. Few people who weren't local knew of it, making it the best option for Bass's return. They be coming out here every morning for the past five days to watch.

"I hope he's bringing enough. We'll need to make a move on that recruitment center."

Miles give a nod. "And I want to have a talk with that suit."

"I still think we should of made a move before."

"With only the three of us, you, me and Jason? No, it's smarter to wait until we have more manpower."

Tom gave a begrudging nod, his eyes never leaving the tree line. They were about to call it a day and head back to their safe house when the lanky form of a young man with dark hair came into view.

"Someone's coming."

Miles lifted his binoculars up and looked through them. "That's Connor. It's them." 

They got down from the slightly elevated position they had been using as a lookout and made their way through the trees. As they drew closer to the road they saw that it was only Connor, Bass, two women they didn't recognize and a large dog.

"That's our backup?"

Miles frowned. "Looks like it didn't go well."

They came out of the tree line into view. Connor and Bass both raise their weapons on a reflex lowered them once they saw who it was. Lowered the, but didn't put them away. Bass frowned at the other man next to Miles. "What's he doing here?"

"He's here to hunt Patriots." Miles nodded at the two strange women. "This all you could find? I thought you were supposed to be getting us some mercenaries."

"The real manpower is on its way. Not mercenaries, real soldiers. I ran into someone who knows Hal Hauk from Georgia. He still got his first platoon with him and they should be on their way here."

Miles blinked. "Hauk? How did you pull that off?"

"Dumb luck." Bass nodded at the pretty blonde. "She's our intermediary to keep everyone playing nice."

Miles looked over at the young woman. He also got a closer look at that dog and saw that it wasn't a dog after all. His head gave a little jerk out of reflex. "Is that a wolf?"

The woman smiled. "Yes. His name is Gary." Her smile became a little nervous. "Hey, Uncle Miles."

Icy shock crawled through his belly. He gave to the young woman and then looked at Bass. His brother gave a single nod. "It's really her. Shocked the hell out of me, too.”

Miles became very still, his eyes rooted to the young woman. There were pieces of Rachel in her face, but the eyes were Ben's. He forgot to breathe for a moment, as though in the sudden movement on his part might cause her to vanish.

"Miles? Do you know this girl?"

He swallowed. "It's Charlie. It's my brother's girl." That last part came out somewhat strangled. "Rachel said you were dead."

"Yeah, I've been getting that a lot lately. In my defense, I thought it was the other way around." She seemed to grow nervous under the scrutiny of her uncle. "So, are you happy to see me? Not happy to see me? Completely ambivalent? Give me something to go on here, Miles. The whole staring thing is starting to creep me out."

The other young woman with them cut off a snort of laughter. She was a pretty thing with inky black hair and a youthful face that was marred by a large strawberry birthmark that went from hairline on the left side of her face over the eye orbit and halfway down her cheek. Both girls were dressed similarly and were barefoot, though they had what looked like perfectly serviceable boots tied to their packs and had a couple of visible weapons and a couple more that were hidden so that you would only be able to see them if you knew what to look for.

"Who's your friend?"

"This is Mary. Closest thing I have to a sister. The people who save my life saved her as well, and we've been together ever since."

"All right. So, you're giving me an actual platoon of soldiers."

She gave a one shoulder shrug that looked so much like his own it was scary. "I'm just here to keep you boys play nice with one another. I doubt seriously that Hal's guys are going to take orders from you, but I should be able to help you and he come to a meeting of the minds so that things go more smoothly."

Mary cleared her throat. "Shouldn't we be considering moving off the road? I'd rather not get filled full of holes just yet. We've been walking for a week now. I like to sit down for a bit."

Miles shook himself out of it. "Yeah, we should get undercover. Come with us."

They made it to the safe house together. Jason was outside heading back from the creek after getting water. He saw them as they came through the tree line and paused, taking in the sight of the newcomers. Bass gave him a slow nod of the head. "Lieutenant, it's good to see you alive."

Jason just gave him a nod and return. He looked over Connor and the two girls and then met his father's gaze. Tom gave a slow nod back.

Miles open the door to the storm cellar and nodded. "All right, everyone inside. You too, Nipples."

One by one they filed into the storm cellar. Rachel and Gene were bent over a table working on something that was likely Rachel's idea given that it looked more like a bomb than like anything used to treat injury or illness. 

Gene looked up first, growing perfectly still as Charlie came into sight under the light of the oil lamp. His jaw fell slack in shock. Rachel glanced up next, looking back down at first before her head jerked up again. Her skin paled, mouth falling open in shock as she stared at the blonde girl standing next to Miles and looking a bit nervous.

Charlie lifted one slender hand and gave a little wave. “Hi, Mom.” Rachel and Gene both continued to stare at her, speechless. If someone dropped a pin it would have deafened everyone in the room. The young woman took a breath and attempted to break the ice. “So...what's for dinner?”

There were tears and hugs and rushed interrogations. Miles motioned for Bass to come with him, wanting to escape the mush that was quickly filling the room. Besides, both Rachel and Gene had already forgotten they were even there.

Tom followed them out.

“Where did you find her?”

“I didn't. Me and Connor ran into some trouble and some of her friends got us out of it. It turns out that they knew her and they're just as interested in getting rid of these red white and blue pricks as we are.” He gave a single shoulder shrug. “I can't tell you much more than that. I tried to get them to open up on the way here, but those girls are masters at evasion.”

“You couldn't get a couple of girls to open up?”

“Those girls are tougher than they look, Miles. Mary is one of the group that helped us out. You saw the weapons?”

“Yeah, they're armed for bear.”

“And they know how to use them. I would have liked to get a couple more of their crew, but the guy who gives them their orders had other plans.”

The door to the storm cellar opened and closed again. A moment later Mary came around the corner of the building. She smiled when she spied them. “Hey. Mind if I crash? It's getting a little too overemotional in there.” 

“Cut them some slack. It's not every day you learn your daughter isn't as dead as you thought she was.”

“I know. Mainly I wanted to give them some privacy.” The girl rummaged in her pack and pulled out a bottle. “I brought a peace offering. Atticus sent it.”

“If that's a bottle of his whiskey, hand it over.” Bass caught the smooth glass effortlessly and uncorked it. He offered the first pull to Miles who took a swallow, blinked, then took a slower, more thoughtful pull. “Good, huh.”

Miles looked at the bottle in wonder. “I haven't had anything like this since I finished off that case of Glenfiddich. Damn.”

“Yeah, it's good stuff. Stop hogging it.” Bass took the bottle back, took a pull of his own and handed it off to Neville. He didn't like the asshole, but there was no need to be rude to an ally.

Mary was looking around her. “We're going to need someplace bigger for when Hal and company get here.”

Miles studied the young woman. “How much of First Platoon is still intact?”

“Including Hal, seventeen. Three were in Atlanta when the bomb dropped, which is why they're going to be willing to join us for this.”

Neville handed Bass back the whiskey. “Seventeen of them, five of us. Seven if you and Miss Matheson join us.” He shook his head. “It's a good count, but the longer we wait to hit that training camp, the better prepared those recruits are going to be.”

Mary's eyes went sharp. “Training camp?”

Miles sighed. “Yeah. The Patriots have set up a boot camp. Have most of the kids from Willoughby there. Got some kids from a few nearby towns as well.”

Bass saw the shadow that eclipsed the woman's face. He swallowed. “That could be a problem, Miles. These guys have run up against one of those camps before when the Patriots grabbed some of their kids. From what Atticus told me, it wasn't pretty.”

“It's an abomination.” Mary's voice was a harsh snarl. She spun away and headed back towards the storm cellar door.

Miles frowned, watching the departing girl and looking back to Bass. “What happened?”

“They got there before their kids could be messed with too much, but apparently the others that were already there were beyond salvaging. From what they told me, they pretty much had to put them down like animals. They weren't happy with it, but they didn't have a choice. Whatever those fuckers did to those kids, it was bad. Atticus said it made our facilities look like summer camp.”

Tom had fallen silent and still. Miles looked ill. Footsteps drew their attention as Mary returned with Charlie. Gene and Rachel were following in their wake. The wolf moved with Charlie, padding on silent paws at her side. 

Blue-gray eyes locked on Miles. “Mary says they've put up a camp?”

Miles' eyes flicked from Charlie to Bass and back. “Yeah. You know something about them?”

“I know they take those kids, strip away their humanity and replace it with something that doesn't qualify was human.” She met Mary's eyes. “It could be weeks before the pack gets here. We can't wait for them.”

Mary gave a nod. “We'll need more information. Surveillance?”

She gave a nod of her own. “Aerial would be best. I'll do it once the sun goes down.”

Miles frowned. “What?”

The girls ignored them. Mary shook her head. “You're too showy. One of those guys looks up and spots you, they'll all look up. Snowy Owls aren't native to Texas. I can do it now and won't draw too much attention.”

“Unless one of them looks up. You're not exactly small.”

“Yeah, but golden eagles are in this area.”

“I've got better eyesight.”

“I draw less attention and can get it done faster.”

Charlie scowled. “You just want to stick me with the question and answer session.”

Mary smirked. “It's a bonus.” She started stripping out of her clothes and weapons, handing them off to Charlie.

That took the guys by surprise. Various protests rang out, falling on deaf ears. Connor was watching with a slight appreciative smile. Jason blushed and looked away to which Mary gave a snort of laughter. “Act like you've seen a pair before.” She passed off the trousers to Charlie, now standing completely nude and doing a very nice job of it. “Give me a lift off?”

“Sure.” Charlie wrapped the trousers around her left arm and crouched down with it extended. Mary started saying something under her breath, shimmered and transformed into a golden eagle. The bird hopped up onto Charlie's arm and the other girl lurched up while lifting her arm quickly, giving the eagle an assist with the launch.

Everyone watched as the bird soared up on powerful wings. “She probably should have asked which direction first.” Charlie shrugged. “Oh, well. She'll find it.” She turned and took the bottle of whiskey from Bass for a pull. “And she sticks me with cluing you guys in. All right. Everyone back inside.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What the fuck was that?”

Miles had barely let everyone get back inside before he threw out the question. Charlie seemed unfazed by it. 

“That was a human female shape shifting into a rather large bird of prey.” She extended the bottle in his direction. “Need a drink?”

Miles glared, snatched the bottle and took a belt. Bass held his hand out for his turn. “So she can turn invisible and turn into a bird?”

Miles scowled in his direction. “Invisible?”

Connor nodded. “Oh yeah. We saw it.” He looked over at Charlie. “Can you do that, too?”

“Yes, but its not really invisibility. It's camouflage. You can see us if you look hard enough.” She glanced back at Miles. “He may need that bottle back.” Her uncle's response was to level a stern frown in her direction.

Rachel took a tentative step towards her. “Charlie, what happened to you?”

Charlie's expression turned from teasing to one of almost sympathy. “I got separated from my family and the people who took me in were capable of things you would probably consider to be impossible. Turns out that they're not impossible, only highly improbable and rather difficult. No one hurt me, Mom. I made my choices. I chose to take this path.”

Rachel seemed to be having trouble wrapping her mind around this. Normally Bass would have enjoyed seeing the haughty blond thoroughly flummoxed this way, but he was too curious about it as well. “So, if I heard you and Mary right, you turn into a Snowy Owl?”

“Yes. And, yes, she has a point about the whole sticking out thing.” She grimaced. “For some odd reason three of the four animal forms I got are all more geared towards arctic climates. It's why I was in Alaska. Figured the best way to study how timber wolves, snowy owls and orcas behave was to observe them up close.” Rachel made a choking sound, which made Charlie wince again. “This is why I hate being the one to explain things.”

Bass could only imagine. “What's the fourth one?” Miles shot him an irritated glare. He shrugged in response. “What? I can't be the only one who's curious.”

“Horse. I got lucky there. Thanks to people, there are horses just about everywhere. Mary's hoofed form is a white tail doe. She has to worry about being shot. I usually only have to worry about someone trying to rope me and break me to a saddle.”

Gene took the whiskey from Miles and took a swig. Rachel's knees decided to stop bearing weight and she sat down in a nearby chair with a noticeable shake. “Charlie, it is impossible for the human body to change into an animal.”

“Aaaand, Mom's in Denial Land.” Charlie shook her head. “You just watched Mary do it. This is real, Mom. The long and the short of it is that all the gods are real. So are all the monsters. And the universe is exactly the size that your mind and soul can handle. We are only constrained by your will and ability to believe.” She gave a shrug. “I choose to believe I'm capable of just about anything I set my mind to.” She took the bottle from Gene and put it in Rachel's shaking hand. She drank automatically, coughing against the burn. 

Charlie looked to her uncle. “She's going to be a problem, isn't she.”

“Well, Charlie, you come back from the dead and can turn into a giant freaking bird. It's a bit hard to swallow.”

“Well, you lot better wrap your heads around it before Hal the crew show up. Otherwise there's no point in trying to keep you guys working smoothly.”

“Why? Does he turn into a turkey or something?”

“No, because they're werewolves.”

The statement fell between them, heavy in the musty air of the cellar. Even Bass didn't know how to respond to that. It was Tom who finally tried speaking up. “Werewolves?”

“Yes. It's why you guys never could beat First Platoon. Every member was part of Hal's pack. They are faster and stronger than normal men, heal almost instantly from injury and unless you're packing silver bullets or silver knives...or apparently a nuclear warhead, pretty much indestructible. Also, a werewolf pack enjoys something they call a 'pack link'. It's a telepathic bond that lets every member of the pack see, hear and smell what the others are experiencing, allowing Hal to always know what was going on in the battlefield and change orders at the speed of thought. You never stood a chance against something like that.”

Bass blinked. “Well, that's handy. Remind me not to be such an ass towards Hal.”

“That's kind of why I'm here.”

Miles scowled. “You want me to believe in werewolves?”

“Do I need to turn into a wolf or an owl to remind you that it can and does happen?”

Miles shook his head and said “I'd rather not” the same time Connor perked up with a “Sure!” Bass punched his son in the arm lightly to tell him to knock it off.

Gene's brow was furrowed slightly. “What else is real, Charlie?”

“Just about everything, depending on the belief structure of the person involved.”

“How so?”

“Well, the elders raised us mostly by old Irish beliefs and thinking, so I've met members of the Tuatha de Danann as well as seen leprechauns, various types of fairies and black hounds. Bass and Connor met Coyote, because when they met Atticus he was helping out the Navajo.”

That made Bass frown. “What, does he turn into a coyote?”

“Yeah,” she responded slowly as though speaking to a slow witted child, “because he's Coyote. A trickster spirit. Now there's indestructible. You can chop him up, burn him up, drown him, shoot him, whatever and he'll just come back in a brand new body. Just avoid making any deals with him. He lives to get the better of people. And there are various versions of him, different ones for different tribes and their beliefs.”

Bass pondered this. “What about vampires?”

She grimaced. “Yes. They're assholes.”

“Burst into flames in sunlight kind or sparkly kind?”

“Why would a vampire sparkle?”

Miles waved all this off with a scowl. “Enough. Just...enough right now.” He looked over at Rachel. Actually, he looked at the bottle. “We're out of whiskey and I'll need more if I'm going to wrap my brain around this.”

“Oh, I brought a bottle, too.” Charlie turned and grabbed her pack from where she'd left it by the wall. “People can take all of this one of two ways; either roll with it or go crazy. A liquor buzz can help.”

Miles accepted the fresh bottle gratefully. “Well, thanks to your mother, I've gotten sort of used to sci-fi bullshit. Of course, this is more sword and sorcery than lasers and microchips, but as long as the people who can change into animals are on our side, I'll make it work.”

“Miles...”

“Rachel, we all saw it.” He took a pull from the bottle. “Sure, it's scary as fuck, but your daughter is alive and I'd be grateful to get Hal and his guys even if they were ordinary men. They're a fine bunch of soldiers.”

“He's right. Those boys handed us our asses on a regular basis. We never beat them.” Bass paused. “Why didn't he just make more?”

“Would you trust just anyone with that kind of a boost? They're men, but the wolf is part of them, too. There's a savage undercurrent to them, like a testosterone overload. You don't want too many of those in one group. Allow the pack to get too large and it's hard to manage.”

He had to give her that. With a nod of acquiescence he stole the bottle from Miles and snatched up a tin cup from a nearby shelf. Tom nodded for one as well and they poured drinks for everyone as they waited for Mary to return.

~***~

“Miles...”

“Rachel, I know this is fuck all weird, but we all saw it happen.”

“How am I supposed to just go with this?”

“Because she's your daughter, Rachel. Because, for whatever reason, she's alive and you get to see her again. Of course she's not going to be the daughter you and Ben would have raised, because you didn't raise her, but I think it's pretty obvious that we owe the people who saved her life and took care of her all this time. Just try and be thankful for that much.”

“I...I don't understand her.” She looked lost. Unbalanced. “I don't understand my own child, Miles. It's like there's nothing of me or you in her at all.” She shook her head, her arms hugging her middle. “Bass didn't raise Connor, but he's still like him.”

He hated this touchy feely shit, but he hated seeing her like this even more. Still, something nagged at him. “Me? Why would she...” He trailed off as he saw the expression of pain and guilt that crossed over Rachel's face. Shock ran through his gut, quickly followed by anger. “Son of a bitch. I asked you, Rachel. I asked you point blank if she was mine and you told me no!”

“I was still hurt, Miles. Hurt and angry that you left me. And...and Ben was more stable. He was better able to provide for the both of us. It was the right thing for Charlie.”

He felt the urge to strangle her but held back. Was this how Bass had felt when he'd come clean about hiding Connor? Damn, but he'd been a dick to do that. “The right thing for Charlie. While you and Ben created the shit that ended the world. How did that work out for Charlie, Rachel?! How did having her in Chicago with two people with no training in how to survive or take care of themselves work out for her?”

“I didn't know that all of this was going to happen!”

“You lost her, Rachel!” Miles ran his hands through his hair, his temper flaring as he tried to wrap his mind around this.

~***~

Voices carry, especially when they're that loud. Bass frowned, unable to quite make out the words being said and more than a little curious. He pushed away from the wall where he'd been leaning as he sharpened his swords.

“I wouldn't go in there if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“I'm pretty sure that Mom just fessed up to Miles being my father instead of Ben.” She was seeing to her own sword, rubbing the blade down with oil while checking the edge for nicks or errors. “He's probably a little pissy with her right now.”

Connor blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

He continued to study her profile. “What about you? This doesn't piss you off at all?”

“Until I met you guys I assumed my mother was dead, and I already knew what kind of a man my father was. Besides, if you don't adapt you aren't likely to survive. Bitching about things isn't going to make them any less true.

Neville shook his head. “He was banging his brother's wife while the man was still alive?”

Bass sighed. “He called it off before our last tour overseas. Told her to go back to Ben. It tore him up inside, doing that to his brother. Broke his heart to let her go.” He shook his head again. “He asked her about you, you know. She swore you were Ben's.”

“Gee, the woman who was capable of ending the world lies. Go figure.” Charlie set her sword across her lap and met Bass' eyes. “Look, Miles and Rachel are my parents. I know this. I've known it since that day when I was twelve when me and Atticus watched from the treeline and saw him order twelve men to their deaths by firing squad. Who I am is who I made of myself. Taking everything under consideration and with the full weight of importance, getting carried off by that flood was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Who knows how I would have ended up if I'd stayed with either of them.”

“You would have been the next thing to royalty. Me and Miles...we would have made sure you never wanted for anything.”

“I never wanted for anything with the Elders. I was fed, cared for, educated and trained. Most likely a whole lot better than you could have managed.” There was an avian cry from overhead. Everyone looked up as a golden eagle soared out of the sky, deftly maneuvered through the tree branches and landed a few feet in front of Charlie. A shimmer of air and blur of movement later and Mary was standing up from a crouching position. “How'd it go?”

Mary stretched her arms up and over her head, either not caring about her nudity or enjoying Connor's perusal. Bass had his money on the latter. “Probably a dozen kids. They're putting them through their paces but no way to tell how far into the brainwashing they are without a closer look. Four soldiers appear to be dedicated to training and another half dozen that wander in and out carrying in supplies and ammo. The munitions dump is on the eastern side of the camp. Hal and the gang would probably like to have that.”

“Buildings?”

Mary grinned. “Tents. Cotton duck. Uniforms are cotton and leather.”

Charlie returned her grin. “We can work with that.” She sheathed her sword and got to her feet. “Remind me to thank my mother for the Blackout.”

Mary cut off a snort of laughter as she accepted her clothes back from a smirking Connor, then frowned at the raised voices from the root cellar. “What's up?”

“My parents are fighting.”

“Drama. Fun. They been at it long?”

“Hmm...maybe ten minutes?”

“Have they gotten to the throwing things stage, yet?”

Charlie seemed to think this over. “I don't think they will.”

Bass cleared his throat. “Shouldn't we be planning?”

“Probably.” Charlie got up from where she was sitting and walked over to the storm cellar door. She stomped it with the dirty sole of her foot. “Hey! Give it a rest! You can kill each other later! Right now we've got work to do!”

~***~

Miles lowered the binoculars. “The two of you are going to distract them?” He couldn't hide his skepticism. “What are you going to do? Turn into wolves and use them for chew toys?”

“I don't turn into a wolf.” Mary was studying the eastern side of the camp.

“What did you get?”

She grinned. “Bengal tiger.” She shrugged. “But I got a doe and a sea otter in exchange for the wicked cool bird and the fearsome kitty cat.”

Charlie snorted. “Cry me a river. Your aquatic animal has dexterous hands that can use tools and pouches under the arms so you can store stuff you take down or bring up. You're so mistreated.”

“Green just isn't your color. Besides, I didn't get the little...” Charlie cut her off with a fake cough. “You take the ones on the left?”

“If you get the ones on the right.”

Miles scowled. “Again, what are you going to do?”

Charlie grinned. “You know how the Celts would run into battle naked?”

“Yeah.”

“There was a good reason for that.” The girls nodded to one another before turning their attention to the camp below. They both started speaking in a low, measured cadence in words only the two of them could understand. Miles' scowl deepened and he was about to demand an answer again when there were surprised shouts from the Patriot camp. 

Connor gave a brief chuckle. “Now that's pretty awesome.”

The people in the camp were pulled down to the ground with pained and surprised grunts. They struggled to get up but were stuck like insects to a cork board. The tents went next, collapsing as though being pulled to the ground from below, the outlines of the people inside struggling.

“All right,” Charlie started as she pulled her sword and got to her feet, “keep your eyes peeled for any paperwork or someone we can question.”

Miles got up, pulling his swords clear at the same time. “How long do we have?”

“Until we release them. There may be one or two strong enough they can tear free of their clothes, but the majority of them will stay down.”

“So...we just go down there and slice some throats?”

“Or you can shoot them, but it'd be a waste of bullets.”

“And you're okay with that?”

Charlie leveled a look at her father. “These guys dropped the bombs that wiped Philadelphia and Atlanta off the maps. Killed tens of thousands of people just to get a foot hold onto the continent. And that's not even taking into account how many they killed by setting off the Blackout. There were seven billion men, women and children on the planet. Now there are fewer than one billion, and while that may be a good thing for the Earth in a lot of ways, she's still a little pissy about it.”

That made him frown. “The Earth?”

“We're Druids, Miles. We bound ourselves in service to the Earth. Survival of the fittest, that she can get behind. Wholesale genocide...not so much. And taking our kids and trying to turn them into their little super soldiers, that's completely unforgivable. Now, if you'll excuse us, me and Mary are going to go down there and leave these fuckers a little message. You can stay or follow as you like.”


End file.
